


We Can Work It Out

by questceque_cest



Category: Glee
Genre: Class Project, Gen, School, Science
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-18
Updated: 2012-11-18
Packaged: 2017-11-18 22:51:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/566157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/questceque_cest/pseuds/questceque_cest
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set in Season One. </p><p>Kurt and Tina couldn't be more distraught when Santana is assigned to their biology group project.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Can Work It Out

The silence in the car was deafening.

Kurt pulled up to a stop light, bloodless knuckles gripping around the steering wheel. He arched an eyebrow, eyeing a gaudy jacket donned by a woman crossing along the crosswalk and sighed, slowly. With pursed lips, he turned to the passenger seat where Tina flashed him a small, apologetic smile.

“Remind me again why I’m doing this?” Kurt asked, contempt seeping into his eerily calm voice.

Tina cleared her throat, her hands fidgeting in her lap. “Because I c-can’t drive?” she offered, weakly. She shrugged her shoulders, relaxing in her seat when Kurt huffed out a laugh of amusement.

“Lucky me,” he said, too insincere even in jest. Kurt rolled his eyes before pressing the gas pedal and continuing down the street. “Now, remind me again just _how_ she ended up infiltrating our partnership? It’s bad enough satan herself weaseled her way in our precious safehaven of the glee club, but for her to worm her way into our perfect partnership is just down right _evil_.”

Giggling, Tina slunk down in her seat and folded her arms across her chest. “It’s all Mr. Langstaff’s doing. C-Clearly he wants us to fail if he thought Santana Lopez would be beneficial to our group.”

“Ah, yes. He knows you and I are the smartest in the class and is trying to take us down a peg by saddling us with a cheerleader who cares more about her nails than her grades. While I appreciate my appearance too, I would much rather be beautiful _and_ successful.” Kurt’s eyes sparkled with joy as he ribbed on their new group member. Next to him, Tina swatted Kurt’s arm and clicked her tongue.

“I think you and I have t-to go sweater shopping after today’s work meeting, something tells me we’ll be needing all the retail therapy we can get,” Tina said. She adjusted her seatbelt as Kurt pulled into the driveway in front of a bungalow house.

“Completely agree. Now, do you think we’ll have to summon the devil herself to come to my car, or will she just appear?” Kurt turned to Tina and quirked his lips, his smile faltering when he saw Tina’s eyes widen and her mouth drop open.

“Oh, God, here she comes.” With a final tug of her seat belt, Tina exhaled sharply and plastered a fake grin on her face.

The front door to the house slammed shut; Kurt and Tina flinched, astounded they could feel the force from inside the car. Santana, with a scowl twisted on her face, headed to the car, her arms cradling a binder and textbook. She rapped on Tina’s side window, eyes squinted and brows furrowed. Tina rolled down the window, bracing herself.

“Move it, Gothika, I call shotgun. There’s no way in hell I’m sitting in the back while the two of you shittalk me from the front in whatever gay language you glee losers speak.” Santana motioned with her hand to the back seat, cocking her hip. “Move it.”

Tina opened her mouth in protest, but sighed in resignation and shuffled into the backseat in quiet indignation. Santana opened the car door and plopped inside, tossing her books to the floor. She buckled her seatbelt and banged her hand against the dashboard.

“Come on, Liberace, I don’t have all day. Let’s just get this shit over with.”

Kurt grumbled under his breath, once again crushing the steering wheel firmly in his hands. He backed out of the driveway and headed towards his house.

The first couple minutes of the ride were uncomfortable, to say the least. Tina sat in the back, nervously flitting her eyes towards the rear view mirror, hoping to silently plead with Kurt via eye contact. Santana laid her palm in her hand, leaning her elbow against the window and staring mindlessly outside. Kurt motioned to turn on the radio, attempting to ease the tension, but was met with Santana’s palm swiftly smacking his hand away.

“How nice to see you out of that uniform, Santana,” Kurt said, trying to once again break the ice as he pulled to a stop sign, “I didn’t know you owned such nice women’s clothing.”

Santana scoffed, scrunching her face. “Yeah, well, the same can’t be said for you, Hummel.”

Tina bit her lip, stifling her laughter. While Santana was vile and being in such close proximity to her was inducing her to have a mild heart attack, Tina couldn’t help but slightly enjoy being in a car with Santana Lopez, as terrifying as that was. If someone were to see them, they’d think _Tina_ was one of the cool kids.

“Don’t think you can slack off on this project, Santana. Tina and I have A averages and we will not forfeit our streak for the likes of someone like you,” Kurt warned as he drove into his driveway, slamming the car into park. He turned to her and stuck out his lip. “No free rides here.”

“Believe me,” Santana said, picking her books from the car floor and undoing her seatbelt, “the last thing I’d want from you is a ride.” She hopped onto the pavement, dashing up the front steps of the Hummel house.

A squeak came from Kurt’s open mouth as he stared at the seat once occupied by Santana. He turned to the back and shook his head at Tina, whose hand was covering her mouth.

“This will be fun,” she said from behind her palm. Kurt took a steadying breath and pulled the keys from ignition, heading towards his front door with Tina in toe.

“Wow, can you hurry it up, I don’t want anyone to see me in this part of town,” Santana growled, stamping her foot on the cement as Kurt fumbled with his keys.

“W-Why not? This is a nice neighbourhood,” Tina asked, eyes fixed to the pavement below.

Santana swiveled her head, glaring down at the other girl. “ _Because_ I don’t want anyone that I may know seeing me fraternize with losers like you two. Get used to picking me up every Saturday, lady pants, because there’s no way in hell I’m fucking parking my car in your driveway.”

Kurt opened the front door, gesturing for the girls to enter. He pinched the bridge of his nose once Santana warily stepped foot into his hallway and calmed himself before saying, “Look, Santana. We need to at least _try_ to get along for the sake of our project. Believe me, Tina and I don’t want to be here any more than you. So, can you just cool it and try to not be a bitch for once in your life?”

Uttering a sound of disgust, Santana kicked off her shoes and looked around the foyer. “Fine. Where are we going to do this? I don’t wanna go to your room and catch gay, or whatever.”

“What did I _just_ say?” Kurt huffed, placing his hands on his hips. He tilted his head back, pulling his lip between his teeth. “I was planning on us sitting at the dining room table, anyway. I _would_ be a gracious host and offer you snacks or a beverage, but you’re severely testing my patience and I don’t think I’d be able to properly make you something without slipping in rat poison.” He stormed over to the mahogany table, where his and Tina’s schoolwork laid strewn over the surface. Kurt slid the chair against the carpeting and sat down with a thunk.

Before Santana could retort, Tina held up her hand. “Guys, p-please, just stop. Everything will be a lot smoother if we’re calm and try to be nice.” She crossed across the room and seated herself next to Kurt, flipping through the textbook to the appropriate chapter.

“Whatever,” Santana mumbled, dropping her book on the table and taking a seat. “So, we’re assigned the circulatory system, right?” When Tina and Kurt nodded, she sighed, fingering through the pages until she reached the eighth chapter. “Alright, so like, do we have to put a lot of effort into this? Like can’t we just make a poster board, cut out some pictures of hearts, glue them on, and be done with it? Seriously, this shit isn’t rocket science.”

A deep croak ripped from Kurt’s throat as the hand that was bouncing a pen against his binder stilled. From the corner of his eyes, he looked at Tina before pursing his lips.

“Well,” Tina began, “Mr. Langstaff said our report needs to be really thorough and should ideally take about a m-month to complete. We have to have a poster presentation, a written report, and a t-typed handout for the class. While I appreciate your idea, I think we need a bit more than just cut-out hearts on a poster.”

Santana rolled her eyes but stayed silent, accepting the mild comment tossed her way.

Kurt cleared his throat. “Why don’t we start discussing the basics of the system and then highlight sections we feel are a necessary focus? Sound good, ladies?”

Tina flashed her teeth in a smile as she began to scribble jot notes on a sheet of lined paper in front. Santana clicked her tongue, but plucked a yellow highlighter from Kurt’s pencil case and ran the tip over the key, bolded definitions.

Clinging to any shred of hope that this project would go smoothly and garner them an A, Kurt sighed deeply and read through his textbook, his pen cap held securely between his teeth.

Perhaps the most excruciating part of this ordeal was the silence. For two hours, no sounds were emitted from the trio, except for the odd throat clearing or nose sniff. The only noises echoing through the dining room was the flipping of paper and the _tick tock tick tock_ from the kitchen clock.

At promptly 4:30pm, Santana banged her textbook shut, jolting Tina and Kurt from their concentration. She collected her papers and stood up from the table, adjusting her pants.

“I’ve done all the shit we’re supposed to do. I’ve highlighted the main functions of the system and anything else that I thought was interesting just like you asked, Hummel, so no complaints about me not doing my work. Can you give me a ride home? My mom wants me to help her make dinner.”

Blinking twice in rapid succession, a small smile crept on Kurt’s lips as he rose to his feet, stunned by Santana’s almost polite demeanor.

“Sure,” he said. He strode to the hallway and fished his keys from the hook.

Tina followed, slipping her feet into her combat boots to accompany Kurt and Santana on their trip. They headed towards Kurt’s SUV and got inside, buckling their seatbelts. Santana took the front passenger seat and motioned for Kurt to start driving. Once again, in crippling silence, they traveled back to the Lopez residence. Kurt had reached for the radio at one point but was only to deftly stopped by Santana.

Grumbling, he pulled into the Lopez driveway and stopped the car. Santana unfastened her seatbelt, picked up her books, and opened the car door. She slid out onto the asphalt.

“I’ll see you next Saturday,” Santana mumbled. She looked up at Kurt, flicked her eyes back to Tina and nodded her head. She slammed the door and scooted to her front door and slipped inside.

Tina crawled into the front seat, turned to Kurt, and breathed out a loud sigh of relief. With a giggle, Kurt backed out onto Santana’s street and sped down the road.

“One Saturday down, three more to go,” he snorted.

Tina groaned and rubbed Kurt’s leg, soothingly. “We better get a good grade for this.”

 

\---

 

The next day, Kurt and Tina strode through the mall, arms linked and hands full of shopping bags. Between their lips were straws sipping iced coffee, and sunglasses fit snugly on the bridge of their noses. The two indulged in some stress shopping after yesterday’s particularly excruciating ordeal.

Kurt and Tina stopped to sit on a bench, rummaging through their bags full of newly purchased clothes. Tina thumbed a sweater Kurt bought, rubbing the soft wool against her cheek.

“You can have first dibbs on this if you want,” Kurt offered, pulling it from the plastic. “This particular shade of midnight blue would look stunning with that skirt you own. You know, the one with the crinoline underneath?”

Tina gasped, pushing her sunglasses onto the top of her head. “You’re _so_ right, Kurt. Is there anything you want to wear of mine?”

Kurt hummed thoughtfully and grabbed a smaller bag from Tina’s lap. “This one has accessories in it, right? Ooh, this belt actually would look pretty good with my McQueen pants, I think tha--”

He faded when he noticed three people stop in front of the bench. Before them were two footballers, the ones who typically tossed Kurt into the dumpster every morning, and Santana. With pursed lips, Tina and Kurt looked up.

“I always knew you wore girl clothes, Hummel,” one of the guys taunted. He snatched the belt from Kurt’s hands, snickering. “Fuck, this is the _gayest_ possible thing, too.” He threw it back at Kurt, who flinched and caught the accessory between his palms.

The other bully looked at Tina and laughed a deep, unsettling laugh. “Look who the lady is hanging out with! Why if it isn’t T-T-Tina C-C-Cohen-Chang?” The boys laughed, smacking each other on the arms as if their teasing was the supremacy of hysteria.

Feeling dejected, Kurt and Tina stood up, collecting their shopping bags. Tina laced her fingers with Kurt’s and they headed towards the exit, not even stopping to acknowledge Santana standing there, watching them leave. Santana pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and stared until Kurt and Tina were outside, still holding hands way into the parking lot.

 

\---

 

The following Saturday, Kurt and Tina, as per usual, drove to pick up Santana. She was waiting for them on her porch, school books in hand. Tina had already cleared out the front seat for the other girl, waiting anxiously in the back.

“Hi,” Santana muttered as she climbed into the front. The radio was playing, blasting Lady Gaga through the speakers. Kurt went to turn off the music but was shushed by Santana. “I like this song, okay?” she said, not looking at Kurt. “Leave it.”

Stunned, Kurt’s lips formed a small o. “Alright,” he said. Kurt began to hum along to the song and was surprised that he made it to the bridge without Santana bitching or complaining. Tentatively, Tina joined in and the two began to sing the lyrics softly under their breath for the remainder of the ride without interruption.

When they pulled up to Kurt’s house, the three exited the car, a spring working its way into Kurt and Tina’s steps. Perhaps today would be the day Santana would treat them like normal human beings and not worms inhabiting the dirt and muck. Although, they weren’t expecting much, given the outcome of last week’s mall run-in.

Toeing off their shoes, the trio headed towards the dining room table. This Saturday session was creating the poster board as they had already completed their report throughout the week. They spent hours cutting, gluing, and pasting pictures and text onto a poster board, backing and lining the images and blurbs with coloured cardstock paper. Many an argument was had over placement of the photos and whether or not the usage of glitter glue would help or hinder their grade.

The most awkward moments were when either Kurt or Tina used the bathroom, leaving the other alone with Santana. Those times were spent either with Kurt or Tina silently praying for the other’s return. The minutes dragged on as the room remained painstakingly quiet. Santana wasn’t doing anything particularly frightening, either. She was just there.

After three hours of cutting paper, Santana declared that she too had to use the bathroom. When she walked up the stairs, Tina and Kurt laughed and slunk in their chairs.

“Wanna practice our song for glee? She’ll probably be up there for hours, powdering her nose whatever else she does in there and God knows we need a mental break.” Kurt headed to the stereo and flipped through the records his dad had in the cabinet. Selecting the one they needed, Kurt pulled the up the needle on the record player and fit the vinyl inside. Music began to blast through the room as Tina and Kurt took their formation in the middle.

Santana opened the bathroom and was met with a wall of 60s pop sounds. Slowly, she crept down the stairs and peered down through the railing at Kurt and Tina dancing and spinning, belting out some song she heard her mother humming to on the radio.

“ _If you wanna know if he loves you so, it’s in his kiss_ ,” Kurt sang, smiling down at Tina.

She grabbed his hand and pirouetted, singing, “ _That’s where it is_.”

“What the fuck is this?” Santana asked, jumping from the bottom step with a thump. The vibration jolted the needle of the record, causing it to skip. Kurt and Tina bolted to a stop, deer-in-the-headlights. Tina ran to the record player, pulling up the needle, causing the song to screech to a halt.

“P-practicing for glee,” she answered. She looked at Kurt who just looked agitated.

“It’s ‘The Shoop Shoop Song’ and I’ll have you know it is iconic. Now, how were we?” he asked.

Santana placed her hands on her hips, scowling. “Honestly? You looked as stupid as Rachel did last week when she wore her kitten and striped kneesocks. But,” she paused, rolling her eyes, “you guys sounded dope, so whatever. Let’s just finish the board.”

Following Santana to the table, Tina and Kurt quietly high-fived before sitting down and picking up scissors and a gluestick.

 

\---

 

The last Saturday into the month was smooth. They completed the handout for the class, their poster board was finalized, and they were practicing and memorizing their parts for the oral presentation component.

As they were packing up their stuff, Santana stopped and cleared her throat.

“So like, this totally wasn’t my idea because I wouldn’t be this stupid or whatever, but my mom baked cookies and practically threatened me to take some for our meeting. So here.” Santana fished a ziplock baggie of chocolate chip cookies from her backpack and tossed them onto the table below. “They’re kinda a thank you for letting us use your house, Kurt. I dunno, it was my mom, okay?”

Tina reached for the bag and opened it, pulling out a cookie. “Thanks,” she smiled, taking a bite. A small moan escaped her lips. “Oh my God these are so d-delicious!” she exclaimed.

Kurt cooed, retrieving his own cookie. “This was very sweet of you, Santana. Tell your mother thank you and not to worry, I don’t mind hosting her evil daughter in my house.”

Santana clicked her tongue and threaded her arms through her backpack straps. “I didn’t do it, okay? It was my mom. Don’t get your panties in a bunch.” She headed to the hallway, waiting for Kurt and Tina to follow.

Kurt opened the door and headed towards his car, his lips curving into a smile as he swore he heard Santana say under her breath, “But, you’re welcome.”

 

\---

 

“Yes!” Kurt screamed, bundling Tina into a hug and spinning her around on his heels. “A+. I knew it, I knew we would pull it off.”

Tina giggled, clutching onto his shoulders. “This was so not the disaster I thought this would be. I’m so glad Santana wasn’t a total bitch the whole time and didn’t drag down our mark.”

“Yeah well she knows I would’ve kicked her ass. Well, attempted to at least,” Kurt teased, brushing his bangs from his face. “I’m pretty certain she could beat me up.”

“Same,” Tina laughed. She backed away from Kurt, nudging him. Behind him stood Santana, her Cheerios uniform perfectly pressed and ironed, her hair in its high pony.

“Congratulations, Santana,” Kurt said, sincerely. He wrapped his arm around Tina’s shoulder, drawing her close to his side. Tina beamed at the other girl.

Santana clutched her binder closer against her chest. “Thanks. Same. Told you I wouldn’t fuck up your grades.”

Kurt frowned. “Yeah, you didn’t. I’m giving the devil her due, I suppose.”

Despite herself, Santana smirked at Kurt’s remark. Tina cleared her throat, straightening her stance.

“Kurt and I were going to celebrate our grade tonight by getting some c-coffee. Wanna join us? You’re our partner, after all.”

After a moment’s pause, Santana stood and stared at the two, eyeing them over. Kurt and Tina braced themselves, knowing Santana would probably laugh in their face or push them over or pull out a slushie from under her skirt and douse them both.

Instead, Santana broke out into a smile for the first time since the project was assigned. “I’d love to hang out with you losers tonight. For total geeks, you’re not that bad. But, don’t fucking tell anyone, got it?”

Tina and Kurt grinned and nodded their heads.

“My lips are sealed,” Kurt said, twisting an invisible key in front of his lips. Rolling her eyes, Santana pushed past them down the hall, muttering to Kurt to pick her up at seven o’clock.

“I thought I’d stop being her chauffeur once the project finished,” Kurt said scrunching up his face in confusion.

Tina sighed, leading Kurt down the corridor. “I don’t think some things will ever change.”

Kurt looked ahead and saw Santana deak into the stairwell and jog up the stairs. “Hmm, maybe you’re right. But, I’d like to think change is possible.” He grabbed Tina’s shoulders tighter and the two, linked together, headed off to lunch.


End file.
